


Vision of Your Loveliness

by deancasplatonicmyass



Series: Earth Angel 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cas is an Eagle Scout okay don't judge me, Charlie Ships It, Cute overload, Destiel - Freeform, I tried to make them in-character but probably failed, My First Work in This Fandom, Plot haha I wish, School Dance, Short One Shot, Songfic, fluffy stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1187958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deancasplatonicmyass/pseuds/deancasplatonicmyass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is feeling like a fish out of water at his first dance. Dean helps him out.<br/>Rated T for mild colorful language (who cares) and rolled-up dress shirt sleeves (Reader Discretion Advised).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vision of Your Loveliness

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fic and I sincerely apologize for all of it. I heard the song "Earth Angel" by Death Cab for Cutie and thought Dean and Cas should dance to it at a high school dance and before I knew it I was writing. So here it is. The title is a line from the song and sounds much more dramatic than the song actually is. Special Shout-Out to the members of the @Destiel_Network on Twitter for their support and encouragement as I foolishly undertook this project.  
> [I dedicate this travesty to the only two people who willingly asked me to dance when I was in high school. Thanks.]  
> Comments are my life's blood. Tell me what you think, point out grammar errors, whatever. Just be civil.  
> \- Molly Pond (formerly kissmecastiel)

Cas wished he had brought a book. Or, better yet, just stayed home.

            For the first time in his seventeen years, he was at a dance; the kind where boys and girls move close together to music of mediocre quality and ear-splitting volume. The gym was dimly lit with strands of icicle fairy lights criss-crossed over the dance floor, air thick with the warmth of young bodies and saturated with music pumping out of the large speakers in the corner. Cas half felt that if he were to release his discomfort and anxiety in the form of a scream, no one would take any notice of it amidst the thumping music. He could feel sweat creeping across his palms, the vibrations of the music mixing with nerves to make a queasy storm in his belly. He needed a drink. He threaded through the crowd towards the refreshment table.

            He had been to plenty of parties and social functions growing up, and at every single one he ended up standing by the food table. He had found he felt less awkward with a paper plate or cup of punch in his hand, as though having his hands full indicated that he knew what he was doing. He wasn’t sure whether it was his preference of books over people or nine years of homeschooling that left him severely lacking in social skills; but whatever the cause, he was beginning to regret coming.

            He hadn’t arrived alone, thank God; he and Charlie lived on the same street and had carpooled. She was the one who had convinced him to come to the dance in the first place. In fact, she had threatened him. They had been riding the bus home from school- it was a Thursday- and Charlie had spent the entire ride attempting to sway him into showing up.

            “It’ll be fun, Cas. You’ll be glad you went.”

            “I don’t know, Charlie.”

            “This is your junior year of high school. You’re adorable. You’re an Eagle Scout-”

            “That doesn’t really lend me much prestige.”

            “-and girls love Eagle Scouts. You look so wholesome and you have a uniform in your closet that they can’t wait to-”

            “Charlie, stop.”

            She laughed. “Sorry. You’re fun to tease. But seriously, Cas, if it’s the actual dancing you’re worried about, I’m positive you’ll find a willing partner. Just try not to look so dead serious.” She adjusted one of the metal pins on her jacket. “Dean’s going,” she said casually.

            Cas flushed. _Of course she would bring that up now._ “I’m beginning to regret confiding in you,” he grumbled.

            “No regrets; that’s my motto,” she said. “So. I happen to know,” she glanced about furtively, “That Dean is single. He’s not bringing a date to the dance. That means you-”

            “No,” Cas cut her off.

            “He likes you a lot, Cas.”

            “We’re friends.”

            She coughed significantly. Cas rolled his eyes and reached past her to pull the cord for their stop.

            “How about we make a deal. You go to the dance, and I won’t tell Dean you’re in love with him.”

            Cas tilted his head at her. “That’s blackmail.”

            “Yes it is.”

            He was silent for a moment, then leaned back in his seat. “You wouldn’t actually do that,” he concluded.

            She tossed her head. “I could, though. Do you know how easy it is to hack someone’s email account? It would take me five seconds.”

            “And if I do go to this stupid dance?”

            “You’ll love it. I promise.”

            Cas was decidedly _not_ loving it. He was miserable, standing against the wall, watching as his friends easily mingled with other students and moved rhythmically to the music. He saw Charlie, who was laughing as she and another girl attempted a horridly off-rhythm tango. Chuck, Cas’ chemistry lab partner and the editor of the school paper, was talking animatedly in the corner with a blonde girl who was nodding worshipfully. Even Kevin, who was notoriously married to his homework, had foregone an evening of studying just to attend. It seemed like everyone Cas knew at school had shown up.

            Except Dean.

            Cas wasn’t looking for him. He really wasn’t. He was just... observing the crowd. Sorting through strange faces and familiar ones, names drifting through his head. The dance had begun half an hour ago. _Where was he-_

            “Hey, Cas.”

            The voice was low and warm and way too close to his ear. Cas let out a yelp and nearly dropped his cup of punch. He shook his head, trying not to smile like a lunatic. “Damn you, Dean Winchester," he said, not bothering to turn around.

            Dean clapped him on the back before crossing in front of him to the dessert table. “I didn’t think you’d come, Cas. Thought you’d be saving the world. Or knitting.”

            “Of course. Boy Scouts are known for their brave deeds and handmade socks,” Cas quipped.

            “Oh, so you have a sense of humor now?” Dean replied with a grin. He popped a cream puff into his mouth. “Wawadmm?” he asked around a mouthful of pastry.

            Cas squinted at his friend. “I have no idea what that means.”

            Dean wiped his mouth with a napkin. “So, what are you doing?”

            “Oh. Uh, just-” Cas gestured vaguely. “Watching the festivities.”

            Dean grinned. “Yeah, I can see that. You dance yet?”

            “No,” Cas shrugged, scanning the crowd as though he were looking for someone. He glanced back at Dean.

            “I’m still here,” Dean pointed out, arms crossed.

            Cas willed himself not to look at Dean’s forearms. Stupid Dean Winchester, with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up, revealing slightly freckled skin crossed with veins... he shook himself and scrambled for something to say; anything to distract him from the strange warmth in his belly. “I can’t dance,” he said finally.

            “And those idiots can?” Dean replied, gesturing to the crowded dance floor. “This is a high school dance, Cas, not a freaking royal ball. You’re here to have fun... right?”

            Cas took a sip of punch. “Charlie made me come. She was... very convincing.” His face flushed slightly at the memory of her words, and he promptly downed the rest of the contents of the plastic cup.

            “Then dance with her! Oh wait- nope, she’s taken," Dean amended, spotting the redhead twirling through the crowd.

            “My stomach hurts,” Cas muttered. Dean paid no attention. He was eyeing a girl with a mop of golden curls drifting over her shoulders.

            “You can dance with her. She’s cute,” he said, elbowing Cas and nodding his head toward the girl. “Or do you prefer brown hair?”

            “I don’t- I don’t know.” Cas shifted awkwardly and eyed the doors.

            Dean furrowed his brow and continued to scan the crowd for potential dance partners. “Well, you can’t just stand there all night,” he said. “Not on my watch.”

            There was no answer, and when Dean turned to face Cas again, he discovered that his friend had vanished.

\--------

            The bathroom was empty and quiet. The only sound was soft breathing and the steady plink of a leaky faucet.

            Cas was standing awkwardly in a stall, face just inches from the graffitied door. His hand was still resting on the battered latch. He felt stupid, hiding in a bathroom like a neglected prom date, but he preferred feeling stupid in private. At least he could breathe in here.

            He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, but the air caught in his throat when he heard the bathroom door creak open.

            “Cas?”

            A flash of heat shot through his chest. _Dean. Of course._

            He briefly considered not responding, but he remembered that his feet were practically sticking out from underneath the stall door. He sighed. “Cas is not in at the moment, please leave a message,” he grumbled.

            “Are you seriously hiding out in the bathroom?” Dean asked. “Come on, man, at least get out of the stall. This is stupid.”

            The latch clicked and the stall door squeaked open and Cas shuffled out. Dean was leaning against the sinks, arms folded. He shook his head. “What’s the matter with you? It’s just a dance. You’re not getting married.”

            “My people skills are rusty,” Cas replied, going to the sink and washing his hands out of habit. “I’ve never been to a dance before,”

            Dean shrugged. “So? First time for everything.” He was quiet for a moment, then dragged a hand down his face and huffed a breath. “Let me help you, alright?”

            Cas shut off the water and turned to face Dean, holding his wet hands at an awkward angle so they wouldn’t drip onto his clothes. “Help me? How?”

            Dean was silent; his eyes were fixed on Cas’ face, but he seemed a thousand miles away. Suddenly he squared his shoulders and went to the paper towel dispenser, tearing a sheet off the roll and handing it to his friend. “Dry your hands, genius.”

            “How are you helping me?” Cas repeated, wiping his hands dry and crumpling the paper towel absently.

            “I'm going to teach you to be a normal person."

            "That's... quite an undertaking," Cas replied. "Where do you plan to start?"

            Dean assumed an air of casual interest. "Well, for one thing, you need to relax. You look like you’ve got a stick up your ass.”

            Cas squinted at him and Dean sighed. “Never mind. First things first. Who dressed you, your great aunt?” He reached out and grasped the knot of his tie, loosening it. The action sent a jolt of electricity down Cas’ spine. His breath hitched and he quickly covered it with a cough. “Uh, Charlie said I should try to look nice. I even ironed.”

            Dean drew away and studied his friend’s appearance. “Well, you look like you’re running for Congress with your buttons all done up. If I were you I’d undo the top two of them.”

            Cas unfastened the buttons with shaking fingers, willing himself to remain calm.

            Dean nodded. “Better. Now what the hell did you do to your hair? It looks like shit.”

            Cas’ mouth twitched in a slight smile in spite of himself. “Yeah, I tried combing it today. It looked okay when it was wet but then it dried funny.”

            Dean surprised Cas yet again by reaching out and carding his fingers through Cas’ wiry, dark locks before ruffling them quickly. “There. What do you think?”

            Cas turned back to the mirror and considered his reflection. The shirt and tie that had looked so crisp and confining on him before now hung on his lean frame like a second, rumpled skin. His hair had been restored to its usual bedhead state, and even though his cheeks were tinged pink and blues eyes sparkling from the thrill of Dean's touches, he looked more relaxed. He looked like his usual self, but with an added... something.

            He tilted his head. “I look like I just made out with someone in a closet,” he concluded.

            Surprised, Dean threw back his head and laughed. “Yeah, you do. It’s a good look on you.” He grasped Cas' shoulder in affirmation. "Now go get 'em."

\--------

            The confidence that Cas had momentarily gained from his interaction with Dean faded as soon as he reentered the crowded gym. During his absence the number of people partner dancing had increased, making him feel even more awkward than before. Dean had given him an encouraging wink before disappearing into the crowd, and once the fluttering in Cas' stomach subsided reality set in. He was alone and out of place. And suddenly thirsty.

            He found an empty chair near the refreshment table and collapsed into it, downing his cup of punch. This was the first and last dance he would ever go to, that was certain. He closed his eyes and absorbed the music that was pressing into his ears.

            He opened his eyes a few songs later and saw Dean resolutely crossing the room towards him.

            “Hey, come here," Dean said, hauling him up by the elbow.

            “If you're setting me up with someone-” Cas sputtered.

            "Actually, I am. With me."

            Cas' stomach flipped. "What? Why?"

            Dean rolled his eyes. "Because you look pathetic just sitting there. Now come on, I paid Ash five bucks to play this song.”

            Dean took Cas' left hand in his right and placed his other hand on Cas' upper arm. "I'm in the girl's position, so you get to lead." Dean explained. Cas nodded and gingerly placed his right hand on the small of Dean's back. Dean started moving before Cas did and there were a few moments of awkward shuffling before Cas got the rhythm of the song.

            “I know this song,” he realized, shifting his hand on Dean's back and hoping his friend wouldn't notice his sweaty palms.

            Dean nodded. “It's a good one. Makes me think of you, actually.”

            “It does not," Cas replied absently, eyes fixed on his feet. _Were they supposed to do a box step?_

            Dean pulled Cas in closer; just a fraction, but enough for Cas to notice. He flicked his gaze up to Dean's. “Yeah, it does," Dean insisted.

            “You’re bullshitting me, aren’t you?” Cas asked, guiding Dean towards the edge of the room. His friend smiled. “You’re leading," Dean pointed out. "That’s a good sign. Finally relaxing a little. And no," he continued, "I am not bullshitting you. Friends don't lie to each other, Cas; didn't they teach you that in Boy Scouts?"

            "I guess," Cas replied, suddenly very warm. He gave Dean's hand an involuntary squeeze.

Dean smiled and leaned forward, his mouth near Cas' ear. The music was loud but Cas could faintly hear Dean singing along. "'Earth angel, earth angel: will you be mine? My darling dear, love you all the time. I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you- ' Shit, Cas, my feet.”

            “Sorry,” Cas said quickly. He could feel heat flooding his face and chest. Of course he'd ruin the moment by stepping on Dean's toes.

            “You really can’t dance, can you?” Dean asked. Cas shook his head. Dean smiled gently. "Alright, then. Just follow my lead." He switched arm positions.

            Cas looked around the room. Almost everyone was dancing, and no one seemed to notice the two boys awkwardly tripping along to the music. Cas saw Charlie across the dance floor and caught her eye. Her smile was radiant and she gave him a wink before waltzing out of sight.

            He let the music fill his feet and focused on Dean; his arms around him, the gentle pressure of his hand on his back, the curve of his jaw and soft, full lips. Cas was suddenly struck by how beautiful his friend was. He could have any girl in room with looks like that-

            "Dean," he started to say, but Dean pulled him closer and dropped a light kiss onto his temple and Cas forgot what he was going to say.

\--------

            Charlie slammed the door of her mom’s battered old station wagon and rubbed her hands together. "Damn, it's cold out tonight," she said. She glanced over at Cas, who was innocently fastening his seatbelt. "Sure seems too cold to be all flushed like that." She added. She gave Cas a pointed look.

            "It's February," he said. "Winter. Cold."

            "Uh huh," she said, eyebrow raised.

            "What?"

            "Did you have a good time?" she asked.

            Cas shrugged calmly. "Sure. Why?"

            She pushed the keys into the ignition and the car began to rumble. "Nothing. You look like you just made out with someone in a closet, that's all."

            A small smile snuck onto Cas' face. "Interesting," he murmured.

            "Yeah, it's freaking fascinating." Charlie dug her iPod out of her pocket and scrolled through it before putting it on the dock. "How 'bout a little music?" she asked, turning on the stereo. 'Earth Angel' filled the small car.

            "I like this song," Cas said softly, rubbing the frosty window with the sleeve of his coat.

            "I know," Charlie replied.

**Author's Note:**

> A huge squishy thank you hug to GreyMichaela for helping me edit this.


End file.
